Importance
by EllieStone
Summary: A teenage Roy takes Riza out for the night, but it doesn't end the way he'd anticipated. Royai one-shot.


Roy knocked softly on the door, easing it open a fraction of an inch.

"What do you want?" Berthold growled, not looking up from the mess of papers strewn across his desk.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," he started nervously. "I was just wondering if you would mind if I took Riza out tomorrow night."

Berthold grunted. "Out? Out where?"

"I thought we might get dinner."

His teacher made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat. Roy took that as a "no." He turned to leave, thinking maybe right now had been a bad time to ask.

"Get your work done first. It's none of my business what you do in your free time."

Roy turned, surprised. "Thank you, sir. I won't keep her out late."

Berthold waved him off, bending closer to over an old text. "Fine, fine…"

Roy closed the door behind him, silently congratulating himself. It was time to move on to phase two.

.

For the second time that evening, Roy found himself knocking on a door, full of anticipation.

"It's open," a voice called from inside.

Roy pushed the door open, peering in. "It's me."

His teacher's daughter was standing on her tiptoes, sliding a book back into position on the shelf. She looked over her shoulder, smiling softly. "Oh. Hi."

Her face was so different when she smiled. She was a pretty girl, to be sure, but it was more than that when she smiled. She hardly ever smiled, though, and never without reason. He had turned it into a challenge for himself, trying to make her smile. He knew it wasn't a game, though. He'd never turn it into a game.

It'd been nearly a year since Roy had begun studying with Riza's father. Although Riza was quiet and reserved, he'd managed to befriend her. The first few weeks, he'd had to prod a little to elicit a non-monosyllabic response to his questions. Eventually, though, they'd fallen into an easy routine, and after her father had sequestered himself away in his room for the night, they often spent the evenings talking.

She replaced the book and turned to him. "Did you need something?"

"Kind of." He smirked. "Are you doing anything tomorrow night?"

Confusion flitted across Riza's eyes as she shook her head. "No, I didn't have any plans."

His grin broadened. "That's what I was hoping to hear. Would you like to go to dinner with me?"

Riza blinked; that was obviously not the question she was expecting. She bit her lip. "I'm not sure… I mean, my father…"

"I already asked him. He said it was fine." She looked indecisive, and for a moment Roy worried she might say no.

Finally, she nodded. "Okay."

"Six, then?" She nodded again. "Great."

Roy left the room, exhaling as he shut the door behind him. Time to get down to work.

.

The next morning, Riza found Roy poring over a book at the kitchen table, stifling a yawn. "You're up early," she commented.

"So are you." He shot her a smile.

She stopped short, sniffing. "Is something burning?" She glanced around the room, searching for the source of the odor.

Roy's eyes widened as he shook his head. "No. What would be burning?"

"I don't know." Riza shrugged. "Maybe I'm imagining things."

"Probably," Roy agreed quickly.

"It's little early to be working so hard, isn't it?" She motioned at his books. "Have you had breakfast?" Riza turned on the stove, setting a pan on the burner.

"Well, I've got to get my work done today. I've got a hot date tonight, you see. But no, I haven't eaten."

Riza laughed lightly. "I guess I've been stood up. Scrambled or fried?"

"No! No, we're still on!" She looked at him, eyebrows drawn together quizzically. He looked back down at his book. _I'm an idiot, _he thought. "I'll just have whatever you're having," he mumbled.

.

Roy paced in the entryway, waiting for Riza to be ready. It was still ten 'til six, but he'd been ready for at least half an hour, wasting time in his room until he couldn't stand it anymore. He adjusted his collar, knowing full well it was lying perfectly already.

He was checking the breast pocket of his suit jacket for the eighth time that evening when he heard footsteps descending the staircase. He hastily pulled his hand out of the pocket and smoothed his lapels, turning to greet her.

She was wearing a blouse he'd never seen before and what might have been a touch of lipstick. She looked awfully pretty. "Riza!" he said, mentally kicking himself for sounding so eager.

"Yes?" she sounded as nervous as he felt.

He cleared his throat. "You look really nice."

She glanced down at her feet, smoothing her hands over her skirt. "Thank you. So do you."

Roy racked his brain for something to say. "Um. Is that a new blouse? I haven't seen you wear it before."

"Sort of. It was my mother's. I had to take it in a bit, but I think it turned out okay."

"Yeah, it did." Riza's cheeks pinkened just a little. They looked at each other, both unsure of what to say.

"So… Shall we go?" he asked after an awkward moment. Riza nodded, grabbing her jacket off the hook. Roy opened the door. "After you."

.

"So what's the occasion?" Riza asked. The restaurant was a little place a friend had recommended, tucked off the main road of town. It was warmly lit, and music played softly in the background.

Roy shot her a questioning look. "You don't know?"

Riza shook her head. "No." Recognition flashed in her eyes. "You wouldn't… This isn't just for my birthday is it?"

"Of course it is. What did you think it was for?" Roy searched his memory for anything other "occasion."

"I don't know." Riza looked down at her lap, blushing. "You've been working so hard lately, I thought maybe you'd come across something important and wanted to celebrate. Or something."

"I did come across something important." She glanced up at him inquiringly. "You!" he laughed.

She gave him a small smile, shaking her head slightly. "I'm not that important."

"Of course you are. Here," he said, reaching into his pocket. "I got you something." He held out a small oblong box. It was wrapped in plain paper and tied clumsily with a ribbon.

"Oh, no! You didn't have to get me anything, this is too much already," she protested. He said nothing, just held the box towards her. "I couldn't, really!"

"Riza," he said levelly. "You're hurting my pride."

She pursed her lips. The look she gave him made him feel like he was being scolded. "Alright." She took the box, turning it in her hands.

"Open it."

She obligingly slid the ribbon off, peeling the wrapping back. Pulling the lid off, her face softened. "Oh," she breathed. "It's beautiful." Inside the box, lying on a tuft of cotton, was a delicate gold chain with a tiny red gemstone pendant.

"It's not real," Roy apologized. "I don't have that kind of money."

"No, it's perfect," Riza said, dangling the chain from her fingers.

"I didn't really know what you liked, and I don't know much about jewelry. You've got that sweater, though, and I thought maybe it would match, or something…"

"It would," she said softly. She looked up at him. "Thank you." There was something in her eyes Roy didn't quite understand. It was gratitude, but it ran much deeper than that…

Riza held the necklace out to him. "Could you, um…?"

"Oh! Yes!" Roy stood up hastily, coming to stand behind her. His fingers fumbled with the delicate clasp for a moment before he could unhook it. He draped it across her neck, the back of his hand brushed her nape as he fastened the chain. "Sorry," he murmured.

He sat back down with a smile. "I'm glad you like it. It suits you."

She touched the small garnet at the base of her throat. "I don't know what to say."

"'Thank you' is enough." Roy grinned at her.

"Thank you."

"You said that already."

She laughed quietly, ducking her head. "I meant it."

"I know."

.

"Are you cold?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Your nose is pink."

"So is yours."

The winter air was sharp, but the lack of wind made the walk home bearable. The cold made the stars seem to glitter even more brightly above them.

"It's supposed to snow tomorrow," Riza commented, squinting up at the sky.

"Not too much, I hope." Roy watched her as they walked. The moonlight was catching her fair lashes in the most peculiar manner. She looked so content that Roy didn't really want the walk home to end. She turned to look at him, and he smiled.

"What's that face for?" she asked him.

He shook his head. "Nothing."

They walked in silence for a moment more. "I had a really nice time tonight." He glanced at her. "I hope you did too."

"Of course I did! The best I've had in a while… Although," she added, "it was all entirely too much."

"I guess you don't want to know what waiting back at home for you then."

"More?" she asked incredulously. Roy nodded. He couldn't tell if she was blushing or if it was just the cold.

"Not _much _more."

Riza sighed. "I can't believe you."

.

"Okay, open your eyes."

Riza cocked her head as she took in what was sitting on the table in front of her. "I haven't had one of these in years." The flames of the candles cast flickering reflections in her eyes and threw shadows across the sloppily iced cake.

"Well, you'd better make up for all those missed wishes. Hurry, before the wax gets in the frosting."

She gave him one of those looks again, part teasing, part scolding, then closed her eyes for a moment. "There," she said. "Happy?"

"You've still got to blow out the candles."

Sucking in a breath, she exhaled and extinguished the candles in one sweep.

"There. Now your wish can come true." Roy smiled at her.

Riza's eyes narrowed. "What's the blue smudge there?" she asked cautiously.

Roy laughed nervously. "I tried to write your name in colored frosting, but it looked really bad, so I scraped it off. I guess I missed a little."

"Oh, good." She sounded relieved. "As long as it's edible." She picked up the knife Roy had set out with the platter. "Would you like a piece?" When he nodded, she began to cut him a slice.

"You might want to cut from the other side," he admitted.

"Why's that?"

"That side might be a little burnt," he confessed sheepishly.

"_That's _what I smelled burning this morning!" Riza exclaimed.

"Well… that might have been left over from the first cake." Answering her questioning gaze, he said, "I may have forgotten it was in the oven at some point. But I had time to make another, so it's okay."

"But… You must have had to stay up all night!" Roy shrugged. She scowled. "You've gone to entirely too much trouble over this."

"I wanted to. Really."

"I can't imagine why. A cake's not worth losing a night of sleep over."

"_Elizabeth? Is that you?"_ They turned to see Berthold in the doorway, looking a little more haggard than usual.

"No, it's just me." Riza's eyes dropped to her lap.

"Hmph. What's the cake for?" Her father looked between them suspiciously.

"Just some dessert. Do you want any?"

"You know my digestion can't handle that," he growled. "Honestly," he muttered before turning to leave. Neither Roy nor Riza spoke until they heard the door to his study close.

"Who's Elizabeth?" Roy asked finally.

Riza was so quiet he almost missed it when she spoke. "My mother."

His eyebrows knit together. "He doesn't think that you're -"

"Oh, no!" She picked at the corner of the table. "It's only on the days he hasn't slept, or when he's in one of his moods. He just gets confused, is all. He knows who I am. He'll be better tomorrow."

"He didn't even remember it was your birthday…"

"He's been really busy lately. He's just got a lot on his mind, is all."

Anger bubbled up inside Roy. "That's no excuse! You're his daughter, you should always be more important than his work!"

"No," she said softly, not meeting his eyes. "I'm only important when he thinks I'm her."

Watching her sit there, so unsure of herself, something constricted in Roy's chest. Here was the nicest girl he had ever met, and she couldn't even look at the only person who came close to qualifying as a friend. He couldn't take it anymore. He stood, and without thinking rounded the table to stand in front of her.

"Riza, no!" He pulled her into his arms. She let out a muffled squeak of alarm and stood stiffly in his embrace.

He pulled back, holding her at arms length. "Don't you ever think that! You're worth more as you than you could ever be worth as anyone else." Her eyes dropped once more. He gripped her shoulders a little tighter. "No! Riza, look at me! This is important!"

Slowly, she looked back up at him. Her slim shoulders felt weak beneath his hands. She was embarrassed, but also afraid, he realized. He could have killed Berthold. What kind of father lets their child grow up thinking they were so insignificant that they don't know what to do when they're appreciated?

"You are _perfect._ Not as your mother, but as _you_. If your father can't see that, he's the one who's wrong!" He could see her struggling not to turn away from him; she was looking at him but not meeting his eyes. "_You _make me happy, and that's got everything to do with you and nothing to do with anyone else!"

She was trembling now, and he knew she wanted him to stop, but he couldn't, not now, not when there was so much at stake. He leaned down, looking her in the eye. "Don't _ever _feel like you are not enough, okay? Promise me. Promise me you won't let him do this to you any more." Riza nodded. "No, Riza. Say it."

"I promise," she breathed.

He pulled her in again, wrapping his arms around her, wishing he could block out the whole world. Cautiously, he laid a hand on the crown of her head. After a moment, she put her arms awkwardly around his waist and just barely leaned in to him. She tilted her head into his chest, and in return, he held her a little tighter.

"Thank you. For everything," she murmured into his shirtfront.

"Happy birthday," he whispered.


End file.
